Lorenzo could recognize the route, as they had passed by Parma, mostly to stop here. They had traveled the same route, reversed. He looked out, eager to see his friend out at long last. 

The carriage ride was two hours, mostly boredom. As he took a seat, he glanced out the window. 

“Are you looking forward to going back home?” Lorenzo asked, giving a smile. 

Placido was fiddling with the book, bored with the things. “I’ll like to see more of the famous Parmesan library, but I need to leave the next day.” 

The vast library, with extensive collections, mostly a carryover from the previous dynasty that ruled Parma, the della Roccas as they were known. 

“I forget, it is a magnificent library. I’ve borrowed countless books from it.” Lorenzo silently agreed. 

“Do you like to read, Signor Baldoleto?” Cosimo asked, never giving up on decorum even though Placido was younger than his eldest son. 

“Yes, I do, but I prefer to collect and read them from my estate, mostly as a hobby. I think we should keep all knowledge regardless of where it came from, but I need to head home to take more responsibility,” he said, glancing at Cosimo. “She thinks that my short sojourn to Paris is enough.” 

It was not all too different, but perhaps it eases his father’s worries that he had forced them. But it was on their family’s coin that they traveled. 

Cosimo broke into a smile, for Placido was learned, but also rather meticulous albeit soft-spoken. It was why they hit it off so well, but it’s been years since Lorenzo found his voice. 

Placido smiled, even as they hit another bumpy road. His parents had treated him as though he was an addition to the family, someone that Lorenzo was fond of. 

And then, there was a smile of youth. 

“Papa, did you ever experience it when I was young?” He asked. “A grand tour, I mean.” 

“I did,” he said. “But it was not for leisure, but for war. I agreed because being away from your family and your parents, it teaches you how to act for yourself. For men, learn how to carry yourself and make trips. There is always a risk. Banditry, accidents, but it’s a part of life that you’ll need to learn to take care of yourself.”

Because one day, their fathers may not be there anymore for them. 

That was why Cosimo did not protest when Lorenzo breached the idea to him; Lorenzo spent days just breaching the idea of his mother. 

“I guess school doesn’t count. You’re never allowed out of sight, and there are always headmasters and professors.” 

Though Lorenzo looked upon it fondly, he didn’t have worries, burdens, or looming promises  — the best point of his life. 

“Both of us would agree that it was the best part,” he said. 

Old enough to act for themselves, but having no actual responsibilities in life to worry about. 

“Yes, going to the military academy was the same. It was hard, but I could.” 

Lorenzo was glad they got along well. And perhaps this association and friendship were good. 

“Are you the eldest son?” He asked. 

“I’m already the lord of a small piece of land in Rome,” he said. “My mother administers on my behalf.” 

He nodded. His father could see it in his eyes. And how Placido found it so easy to assume. Lorenzo, however, struggled, for he wasn’t the heir until he was a teenager. 

Then they were no longer moving. The valets opened the door, reading the footstool for his father’s slow descent down. He’s always had a bad leg, from afar. 

“I hope this isn’t too much for you.” Placido told him. 

“It isn’t. I have business here regardless.” He assured him. 

“I’ll find the horses meant for you, signore.” The valet went aside before Placido nodded. 

“I’ll be going first. Take your time to say your farewells to him and join me when you’re done.” 

“Thank you, Papa.” He thanked his father, always for that. As they didn’t know when they could see each other again. 

Cosimo turned around and leaving. 

Lorenzo looked relieved, but also glad that the conversation went so well. Placido put a hand on his shoulder, easily assuring him, as though knowing. 

“I’m alright, he’s my father after all.” 

“Do you feel rather inadequate for him?” 

“I feel like I can’t match up. Even though I try to be his ideal heir, perhaps thinking, but he’s mostly rather upset,” he confessed. “I just don’t know how to read him.” 

“I think he thinks you need his guidance more than anything else.” Placido held his arms. “He’s kind, and you’re not here to do a perfect job. You’re here to try. What you don’t know, he can tell you.” 

“You’re right, but how are you so certain?” 

Placido had been a year older than he was, and they struck a chord earlier. 

“It was the same with my parents, too. My father, he passed when I was ten, sought to prepare me for stewardship. He never believed my mother was ready or ever would be, and so he tried to teach me everything. Now, I can do it, but it’s just my duty. But she could, but it’s how you learn.” 

Placido always wished for that connection. His father’s brothers had been dead, as he knew it. In fact, his father had been a priest, leaving the priesthood to continue the family line. And he had done so, marrying a young woman to continue the family line. He had three younger brothers and a single sister. 

Mistakes were inevitable, even though his father had warned him. 

Cosimo would be there to smooth them all over. Lorenzo need not worry. 

“Something did bug me. Who inspired your love for books?” Lorenzo asked. 

“My father, he wrote them as a guideline for me and once he realize he wouldn’t live to see me go on.” 

And he still could turn to his father. Placido could not. He was much more lucky than he seemed. 

“Thank you,” he said. This allayed his fears incredibly and how he would deal with them. 

“Things really changed. You were much more carefree when we first met.” 

“So do you,” he said, admitting it to him. “I’m glad to talk to you. Can I talk to you about this? Do the same for me if you need someone to talk to.”

This was an offer. They both were in a similar predicament, and they understood the weight. Perhaps it was good. Though they inherited the lion's share of the property and fortune, they also inherited most of the family’s problems. 

Placido nodded. “That’s what friends are for, after all.” 

Lorenzo was glad that he talked to him. 

“Signore, I’ve returned.” Amico came back with his hand over his heart. 

Now, they had to say goodbye to each other. He gave Placido an embrace, knowing that it will be awhile before they’ll see them again. 

Then he left with his valet. Lorenzo watching until he faded from view, once Placido was gone from sight. 

Gennaro looked at him, giving a nod. It was time to meet his father.